


Kiss Me through the Phone

by SugarsweetRomantic



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: D/s if you squint, F/F, It's D/s, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Well - Probably also D/s without squinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-03-12 20:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13555140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: Bridget messages Franky at night.





	1. Chapter 1

Franky sighed as she stepped out of the shower. The water pressure at her bedsit was shit, and the temperature fluctuated more than Donald Trump's political conviction. Showers at her place were functional: they got her clean. Showers at Gidge’s house, however, were of a whole different calibre. They were hot, in more ways than one. She smirked as she recalled their joint shower from two days ago. Thank God Bridget's neighbours were near-deaf senior citizens. 

 

Her phone chirped with a text notification. Checking that all of her curtains were closed, she walked into the room and grabbed the device.

 

_ SapphicPsychologist: Can I call you? _

_ TattedTopDog: I just got out of the shower. _

_ SapphicPsychologist: So? _

 

Franky contemplated for a short second before turning on her front-facing camera and snapping a photo of herself. 

 

_ TattedTopDog has sent 20170211-231203.jpg _

_ SapphicPsychologist: Now I really want to call you. _

 

On the other side of Melbourne, Bridget Westfall had nearly dropped her phone onto her face when she'd opened the attachment Franky had sent her. It was a photo of the brunette’s upper body, and there wasn't a stitch of clothing covering her. Her olive skin contrasted beautifully with the bright colours of all of her tattoos, and her small, firm breasts were on display. 

 

_ SapphicPsychologist: God, I wish I could touch you right now. _

_ TattedTopDog: Come here then. ;) _

_ SapphicPsychologist: We said we wouldn't… _

_ TattedTopDog: But you're hot for me, aren't you?  _

 

Bridget went silent for a while. Biting her lip, Franky wondered whether she'd been too provocative for a Thursday night. 

 

_ SapphicPsychologist: ...yes. _

_ SapphicPsychologist: And I long to hear your voice, Paquita. _

_ TattedTopDog: I know, Gitta. _

 

Franky smiled at the nicknames. They had decided on them a long time ago, not wanting to risk their messages being able to be led back to them. She had decided to call Bridget ‘Gitta’, after she'd once heard one of her friends use it. Bridget had settled on ‘Paquita’, once she'd learnt it was a Spanish diminutive of Francesca. She'd told Franky: “It fits you.”

 

_ SapphicPsychologist: So can I call you?  _

_ TattedTopDog: Hmm, I dunno. _

_ SapphicPsychologist has sent 20170211-231943.jpg _

_ SapphicPsychologist: Pretty please?  _

 

This time it was Franky's turn to almost give herself a black eye from letting her phone fall out of her hands. Bridget was standing in front of the bathroom mirror. She was looking into the camera. Her lips were slightly parted, and her hair was down, falling onto her shoulders. She was still wearing her everyday makeup, but all she was wearing was an indecently short deep-cut navy gown. It had a silky look to it, and knowing her girl, it probably was real silk.

 

_ TattedTopDog: That's very pretty _

_ SapphicPsychologist: Don't make me beg… _

_ TattedTopDog: Not yet.. ;) Alright, call me. _

 

Franky just barely had enough time to let herself drop onto her bed before an image of Bridget's silhouette appeared on the screen of her phone. Smiling, she swiped ‘answer’.

“Hey hot stuff,” she greeted the psychologist. On the other end of the line she could hear Bridget giggle at the admittedly corny greeting. 

“Hey baby,” the older woman told her in return. The things Bridget's voice could do to here were incredible, Franky reminiscenced. The warm alto frequencies travelled through her body and warmed her soul.

“Did you like the photo?” she asked, grinning as she waited for the blonde's response. Bridget hummed in acknowledgement and replied: “Very much…” The neediness in her voice was obvious. It was clear to Franky: Bridget wanted her. What a fucking amazing feeling that was!

“Tell me what you need,” she told the psychologist. “I…” Bridget began, but the rest of her response was too mumbled for Franky to understand. 

“Words, Gidge.” 

“I need you to tell me what to do.” 

 

Franky nearly pinched herself to make sure she'd understood the blonde psychologist correctly.

“Franky?” Clearing her throat, Franky replied: “Okay. Are you in the bedroom?”

“Mhmm,” Bridget hummed in response. 

“Curtains closed?” Another hum.

“Hang up, and call me back through video chat,” she told the older woman. Beeping in her ear told her that she had done exactly as she had said. Within seconds, her phone started buzzing, signifying an incoming Skype call. 

 

_ SapphicPsychologist is video calling you. Answer/decline? _

 

Grinning, Franky pressed ‘answer with audio’.

“Hey,” she greeted the flushed blonde who was staring into the camera. Bridget’s brow furrowed.

“Your camera isn’t working, baby.”

“Nah, it works.”

“But…” Bridget was silent for a tick. “Oh…” She blushed as she realised that Franky had left her video off on purpose. The brunette smiled.

“Now listen carefully.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to ShiryaW for inspiring me to add a second chapter to this fic, which I had originally planned as a one-shot. Please note the rating change!

Bridget inhaled deeply, trying to stay calm while nerves wracked through her body. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her body, but letting Franky see her while she couldn’t see the brunette, was definitely something she hadn’t experienced before. Smiling at the camera, she bit her bottom lip. She could hear Franky’s chuckle on the other side of the screen.

“Relax, Gidge.” Bridget let her head fall back, laughing as she exclaimed: “Well, that’s easier said than done!”

“Then get comfortable, babe. This is about you,” the brunette told her. Frustrated as she was at not being able to see what probably would be a self-satisfied smirk on Franky’s face, Bridget nodded and moved her laptop to the bed, letting it rest on Franky’s side. A slight shiver travelled through her body and she closed her eyes for just a moment, feeling the soft rayon sheets and silk gown against her slowly-overheating skin. 

“Are you cold?” Franky asked. Opening her eyes, Bridget shook her head, voicing: “No.”

“Then take it off. I want to see you.” The blonde smiled, and kneeled on the mattress while facing the camera. She grasped the hem of the slinky nightgown and pulled it over her head in one fluid movement, making sure it didn’t get caught on the studs in her ears.  _ No need to turn this into a bloodbath _ , she told herself as she carefully draped it over the chair next to the bed. She could hear Franky inhale sharply at the sight of her nude body. 

“Fuckin’ stunning.” The somewhat crude comment earned the brunette an uninhibited giggle from Bridget, whose chest was moving with quickened breathing. Immediately, Franky commanded: “Touch yourself.” Bridget went quiet.

“Where?” she asked, looking into the camera once more.

“Is that feather Tess got you still in your nightstand?” the younger woman inquired. Bridget could hear some rustling on the other end; Franky must be getting comfortable as well. Reaching over and grabbing the item, Bridget held it up so Franky could see. 

“Touch your chin with the tip, and then slowly, slowly,” Franky told her, emphasising the adverb, “move it down your throat until you reach your chest.” The psychologist nodded and did as she was told. The moment the soft barbs touched her skin, her eyes fluttered closed. The soft material was setting every nerve ending it came into contact with on fire; she was sure of it. 

“How’s that feel?” Franky’s voice sounded huskier than before. 

“Really fucking good,” Bridget breathed in response, chuckling softly at how desperate she was already feeling. If it hadn’t felt so good, she would have been more self-conscious, she figured. 

“Good. Touch your breasts,” the brunette commanded. Bridget let her fingertips trail across her skin, but Franky immediately halted her: “Stop. Use the feather.”

“Sorry,” the blonde whispered, continuing the path down her chest. Her nipples pebbled slowly under the gentle touches, while heat began pooling low in her belly. She realised she was pressing her thighs against each other, looking for sweet friction, but Franky hadn’t given her permission to do so. It was extremely tempting to touch her folds anyway, and never mind the consequences.

“Look at me.” Franky’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. “You’re tired, aren’t you, Gidge?” Bridget looked down at the keyboard of the laptop. It had been a long day, that much was true, and she had to get up early in the morning. “Look at me, please?” Franky continued, the camera on her side suddenly turning on. The brunette smiled gently at the psychologist, and whispered: “Get comfortable, for real. Under the sheets, babe.” Blushing, Bridget crawled under the covers and pulled the laptop closer to her, letting it rest on Franky’s pillow. 

“I’m too aroused to sleep right now, Franky,” she warned, her voice low. Chuckling, Franky responded: “I know.” Bridget raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Grab the toy, Gidge. The light pink one.” A naughty gleam appeared in Franky’s eyes, and Bridget nodded, leaning over to pull out the bottom drawer of her nightstand, retrieving a small bullet vibrator. She held it up towards the camera, holding it between her thumb and index finger. The younger woman grinned. “There ya go! I’m pretty sure you know what to do with that.” Giggling, Bridget nodded again, and twisted the bottom of the toy. It began pulsating softly in her hands. 

“Don’t go too fast. Take it slow.” Franky was watching her intently, reassuring her with soft praise and gentle murmurs. As the toy came into contact with her centre, Bridget gasped quietly. The pulsing vibrations travelled through her body, while tension slowly began building in her lower abdomen. She couldn’t suppress a muffled cry when the bullet suddenly slipped between her folds and brushed against her clit. 

“That’s it, beautiful. Relax, but keep looking at me, okay?” The younger woman’s soothing voice reached her soul, and Bridget forced herself to open her eyes, focusing on the digital image of Franky on the screen. She began moving the toy against herself, panting softly while the sensations drove her senses wild. 

“Won’t take much,” Bridget managed to gasp. Franky only smiled. The tension in her pelvis abruptly skyrocketed as the toy vibrated against exactly the right spot. The older woman panted rapidly, struggling to keep her eyes open. 

“Let go, Gidge. Let go,” the brunette whispered. Biting her bottom lip, Bridget focused on her body and Franky’s voice. Mere seconds later, the passion suddenly pushed her over the edge. Her climax announced itself with a choked sob, and she hid her face in the pillows. She only just registered Franky’s calming reassurances: “...that’s it, Gidge.”

“I need to go clean this up,” Bridget mumbled when the ability to speak in short sentences returned to her. Her insides were still fluttering as she got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. Turning the toy off, she washed it under a lukewarm stream of water. She’d clean it thoroughly tomorrow. Quickly running a washcloth along her thighs, she dropped it into the hamper and made her way back over to the bed. Franky was still connected, though, from the looks of it, she had gotten into bed as well. 

“Can you sleep?” the younger woman asked, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. Bridget nodded, murmuring: “Yeah. What about you, babe?” Grinning, Franky replied: “I’ll be having some amazing dreams.” The blonde giggled, yawning softly.

“Get some rest, Gidge. I’ll be there on Friday, yeah?” the brunette told her, visibly fighting sleep as well. Nodding, Bridget moved towards the camera and blew a kiss towards Franky.

“Good night,” she whispered. Franky mirrored the gesture, and murmured: “G’night.” 

The computer beeped once, notifying Bridget that Franky had ended the call. The blonde didn’t hear the notification; she was already dreaming of Friday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to learn your thoughts about it (or anything else Wentworth-related for that manner)!

**Author's Note:**

> This had been gathering dust on my Google Drive for at least a year...and I finally finished it!


End file.
